Then she ran down to the cellar, and reappeared with a basket of potatoes and a pan of rosy apples.
"Now we will perform a trio!" she said.

"Pink, you shall peel and core the apples for apple-sauce, and Bubble shall pare the potatoes, while I make biscuit and gingerbread." Accordingly, she rolled up her sleeves and set busily to work; the others followed her example, and fingers and tongues moved ceaselessly, in cheerful emulation of each other.
"I'd like to git hold o' Simon Hartley!" said Bubble, slicing vengefully at a big potato.

"I wish't he was this tater, so I do! _I'd_ skin him! Yah! ornery critter! An' him standin' thar an' grinnin' at me over the wall, an' I couldn't do nothin'! Seemed's though I sh'd _fly_, Miss Hildy, it did; an' then not to be able to crawl even! I sw--I tell ye, now, I didn't like that." "Poor Bubble!" said Hilda, compassionately, "I'm sure you didn't.

And did he really start to crawl over to the farm, Pink ?" "Indeed he did!" replied Pink.

"Nothing that I could say would keep him from trying it; so I bandaged his ankle as well as I could, and off he started.